Do you know the thing that makes me post again? (It’s not to make an awful pun, by the way.) Restrain yourself from letting the word “geek” pop out of your mouth, but it was rereading my front page and discovering badly written sentences and grammatical errors. I couldn’t let those things profane the top of my blog any longer.

So. Hi friends. Popping into your blog reader for just a moment. To redeem myself. ‘Cause this paragraph is horrific. And fun.

And also to tell you a story now that it’s awkwardly late.  It goes something like this:

You know how you get an idea for a project in your mind and you can’t concentrate on much else? That happened when we got engaged and focusing hard on college sort of flew out the window. When it came to planning for the future vs. planning for the biggest party of my life, well, my poor “future” never stood a chance. It was a lot like that when we decided to have a baby. That was way back at the end of last summer, about the time I stopped posting. I was concentrating all of my energy on making some little spark ignite inside my body.

It worked too! Four months later, we had a special Christmas announcement. I was all set to start blogging in the new year with a whole new website and a slew of nursery ideas.  But this happened and that happened. The timing never worked out. I was feeling tired. I kept asking Sean, “Are you sure I’m pregnant? Is it really in there?” I wanted to be positive, and never is there another time in a girl’s life when feeling like crap is so very reassuring. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling quite crappy enough and one day at work I suddenly knew. Just two months new and our baby was gone.

Can I tell you something? I miss that little tiny growing thing inside me. I still cry sometimes when a conversation among our friends about their babies lasts a few hours too long or when a newborn is propped on a chair directly in my view at church. I know that some way, somehow being a mommy is going to be part of God’s purpose in my life and I can’t wait to get started. 

I also know that those two months and then the weeks following were among the biggest blessings I’ve ever known. I got to care for a little soul for two whole months! I got to nourish it and sacrifice for it while it grew and died inside me! I got to feel anguish, peace, and joy all at the same time. The night that I came home and knew the baby was gone will always be one of my worst and best memories because I felt God surrounding us inside of that nightmare like I’d never felt before. I couldn’t find words to pray at all. Instead, a record played in my head, “The Lord gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Over and over. One can’t argue with God.

What happened to us is nothing particularly special. It happens all the time. Among a certain group of friends, every single one of us has lost our first baby.  Never, never would I wish it on anyone, but it is so precious to know we have a Comforter who makes all things good.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to be patient until we can try this thing again. We’re training for a 5k, planning our summer vacation, sewing curtains for the family room, hanging things on our walls, planting the garden, baking bread, and learning more about ourselves. It’s good to have another chance. I may continue to blog as the whim strikes. It’s fun making my own rules about that. If you’re still there, know that I appreciate it so very much!

Love,

Katherine

I thught that Nadia’s autumn swap was so completely perfect that I had to join in and I am very proud of myself for two reasons. One is that I actually got it into the mail before the deadline and the other is just that I would be beyond ecstatic if this package landed on my doorstep – so I’m hoping that means it’s a good one.

The rules were to send a book that I love, a photo or postcard with a quote, something from nature, and one other little treat. So, I found this beautiful old copy of Ivanhoe, which I waded through years upon years ago and completely adored, some cute fall stickers, a favorite photograph of mine, and a sachet filled with lavender and cedar from my backyard then nestled into a little bed of moss. My swapee is still a secret, but I do hope she likes it once it arrives!

How are you celebrating this season?

There were lots of highlights for this birthday including breakfast in bed, listening to Sean read a French story, book shopping, a game of Authors, pear and gorgonzola pizza, thrifting, pumpkin ice cream, quiet moments reflecting on Psalm 139, and gorgeous, sunny weather. Those of you who sent kind thoughts and gifts made it even better. Now, to see if my secret wishes for the year come true.

I’ve made a sort of informal decision to let my magazine subscriptions run out and not renew them. I’m never quite able to find time to sort through and rip out the few pages that I want, so they pile up in stacks on my desk, at my bedside, and in the spare bedroom. Plus, when it comes to image filing I find the ones stored on my laptop much more accessible. And so, internally, I declared a revolution to only buy paper mags when I really feel the urge. Viva la sanity! We’ll see.

But thank goodness for virtual glossies like my favorites: Lonny and Papier Mache – better for the environment & simpler to access and save (even though this makes me feel like a complete traitor to my beloved print). How do you all feel about it? Do you prefer to hold your magazines in your hand or on your phone/laptop? I find my preference changes depending on my mood.

Of course, the really tricky part is distinguishing between getting inspiration and ideas from magazines (and blogs) vs. coveting everything in them. Sometimes I realize I’m happier not looking at them much at all!

By the way, the photos above are from Lonny’s new page dedicated entirely to bookshelves. Have you seen it? Won.der.ful.

Some randomness for you before you head for your pillows via my husby via my MIL. ‘Night!

Never did that before. It was pretty sweet.

Goodbye little dead tree.

Next up on the tentative to-do list:

bread baking

dining table refinishing

fundraising

sweet potato pancake and mushroom soup making

foot bathing

old movie watching

book reading

sweet dreaming

I tend to think it is a little strange that I never, never took an art class in all of my education. Take me to a museum and plop me in front of the impressionists or let my eyes meander among the Renaissance artists and I will be in raptures. If Anne Shirley comes to mind, you’ve got it about right. So we dreamed about taking an art class together, Sean and I, and this fall was just the time for fruition. We gathered our supplies, found the room, seated ourselves among a very small, friendly group of people, and arranged our pencils and paper.

Now, you have to understand that God and I have frequent conversations about certain fruits of the spirit that I lack – patience, self-control, loving who I am instead of comparing to/coveting the abilities of every last human on earth (well, I added that last one). I should have been thinking about how recently I had been praying for their development that night in that classroom. Unfortunately, I am not always so prepared.

Unfortunate because I soon realized that I was the only absolute beginner in a class comprised largely of professionals. Unfortunate because not far into staring hopelessly at the picture I was attempting to draw I was trying and failing not to do the unthinkable and cry in front of strangers. Very kind and encouraging artistic geniuses, relatively speaking, are not ideal when you are crying about the shading on a dead tree branch. Sorry. I would like to order a group of scribbling children please.

There I was furiously wiping tears from my nose, all because that dreadful shading and that classroom were visual representations of some of my strongest fears and imperfections. When the class was dismissing it took a good bit of coaxing before I would grudgingly sign my initials on that paper and own it.

Now don’t go telling me that for a first drawing it actually looks good. I won’t have it. That much I have firmly fixed in my mind. This is entirely an exercise in learning humility, growth from hard work as opposed to “natural” & immediate talent, patience to slow down and just try without turning envious eyes towards my husband’s paper.

Because sometimes blogging turns into a parade of false perfection and maybe someone else has these struggles too. And perhaps if I post my work from week to week it will remind us both of our progress from the inside out.

This isn’t exactly a pretty post, but I have full faith that it can be. A dear friend and neighbor of my dad’s is about to lose his small dairy farm to the bank. The economy has not been gracious to him in recent years and the bank, being a business, has run out of patience. If nothing changes, this man, his wife, and youngest son will soon be homeless.

Will you do me an enormous favor and click over to read the whole story? Please donate if you can, but most especially pray that they will be wrapped in love, encouragement, and surety that there is One who cares for them. Also please, please, please spread the word by tweeting, facebooking, emailing, and blogging this link. There will be a hearing over the phone tomorrow (Thursday) with the bank and we are uncertain how things will look after that. Depending on how donations go, we may be able to buy some more time, so every little bit of help we can get will go a long way toward meeting our goal. Thank you so much!

My favorite month has arrived after a long summer and I almost forgot to welcome it! Here’s to birthdays (ahem), campouts, cool nights, bountiful harvests, art class!, renewed energy, long walks, hot tea, new schedules, and warm cardigans. Here’s to ends of things and beginnings of things blithely combined, literature written on changing skies and brisk breezes; learning, growing, thinking, and doing. September is a wonderful plaything.

Image by Ricardo Cuppini